


The things you want, the things you have to kill

by KelpietheThundergod



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Contemplation, Introspection, M/M, ambiguous pov, falling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpietheThundergod/pseuds/KelpietheThundergod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how you were made: to be a shield and a bloodhound. A judge and an executioner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The things you want, the things you have to kill

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural  
A/N: Beta provided by Celesma. All remaining mistakes are my own.  
  
 _Catch me if I fall  
I'm losing hold_  
– The Cure, Faith  
  
This is how you were made: to be a shield and a bloodhound. A judge and an executioner.  
  
Yes, you were – are – made of contradictions. Of course, it's too late to ask whether that was what was intended, for the person who made you is long gone.  
  
Maybe it comes down to the first thing you are: a hunter. Someone who actually fears most the things he pursues (oh, and how afraid you are of so many things you desire to have, isn't that right?).  
  
It's an uncomfortable idea and you put it right in the place where all the things that unsettle you go; a deep dark place covered with a thick layer of forced indifference and alcohol.  
  
But with every time you fail, every time you _doubt_ , the fear sneaks under that layer, further and further – the fear of what will happen if one day, there will suddenly be no one for you to shield.  


No one to judge but yourself; nothing to hunt, to ensure protection against.  
  
Then all that would remain would be things to execute; endlessly. Because that'd be all the purpose left for you.  
  
Because that was how you were made.  
  
Your only, desperate, guilty hope? That _he_ will stop you then. He's so much stronger than you. He _knows_ you. He'll see it, of that you are sure (he stares at you enough for that, right?) and he'll be forced to act.  
  
You tell yourself: Maybe it'll never come to that. As long as you'll protect what you've been made to protect, you'll be fine.  
  
But with the decisions you made lately, it's getting harder and harder to stay yourself.  
  
A hunter will always be haunted, it seems.  
  
But damn, if it's anything like looking into the abyss and having the abyss staring right back into your face.  


You're standing on an edge, and you know it. Each decision taking you closer to both the things you want and the things you have to kill.  


So, his decision to save _you,_ of all people – it confuses, it angers you. Apparently, you had been right where you deserved to be.  
  
But you _fear_ falling down there again.  


And you're losing hold.  


Each step bears you down and yet you find yourself reaching out, more and more, caring less and less what it means to fall.

 

 

  


  


 

  


 

 

 


End file.
